


It's an in-ring kind of love, baby.

by ccshbh



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, wrestling au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:21:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22957840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccshbh/pseuds/ccshbh
Summary: I know, I know, Wrestling, right? But I've been a fan for over a decade and this story has been in my head for a while now, so I'm going to be selfindulgent and post it anyway. If you want to tag along for the ride, but have no idea about wrestling, I will leave you a little dictionary in the notes (at the beginning and the end probably, considering character limits).Enjoy and let me know if you like it!
Relationships: Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	It's an in-ring kind of love, baby.

**Author's Note:**

> WWE = World Wrestling Entertainment, the biggest Wrestling company on the planet.
> 
> RAW = WWE’s main show
> 
> Smackdown = WWE’s second largest show
> 
> NXT = WWE’s thrid largest show and the breeding ground for upcoming talent.
> 
> turnbuckle = the highest point of a ring corner
> 
> stable = (in wrestling) an alliance of three or more wrestlers
> 
> Ring of Honor or ROH = the third (our fourth, depending on who you ask) largest Wrestling company in the United States.
> 
> Performance Center = WWE's training grounds for up and coming talent in Orlando, Florida.
> 
> moonsault = A backwards salto, carried out either from the second or third rope of a wrestling ring.
> 
> Phoenix 630 = also a wrestling move, but too complicated to explain. It looks spectacular though. Trust me.
> 
> clothline = another wrestling move, where one wrestler runs the other one over with their outstreched arm, primarily done by large and bulky wrestlers.
> 
> Finishing move = a wrestler's trademark move, usually carried out at the end of the match.
> 
> Shawn Michaels = a former WWE Wrestler and absolute legend of the business, also known as HBK (Heartbreak Kid) or Mr. Wrestlemanina.

Jughead notices her on his first day at the Performance Center. Among his nerves, his excitement of finally having made it here, his amazement about the equipment, everything else seems to have drowned out the moment he takes his first step inside the building. But her… she is something special.

Just as he is climbing into one of the rings for his first actual training session, she catches his attention from the ring on the other side of the gym. It’s not because she is beautiful, it is not because she is directly looking at him, no. It is because she is delivering the most elegant and stunning moonsault he has seen in his life. It is so good in fact, that it makes him want to immediately go over and ask her to teach him. But he knows he can’t. It’s his first day in the biggest wrestling company on the planet and he has worked for years to make it here. He needs to focus on what is at hand.

So, for now, he sticks to admiring her from afar.

…

He learns that her name is Betty, because he hears some of the girls call her that from across the gym.

It’s a little bit odd, he thinks. In his mind, the name Betty is reserved for the nice old ladies in the pensioners home him and JB sometimes used to volunteer back at Sunnyside. He has never heard of someone his age going by that name, but then again, his legal name his Forsythe and he has willingly decided to go by Jughead, so who is he to judge?

He notices that not just her moonsault is elegant. She seems to be elegance personified. It’s in the way she walks, the way she gestures when she talks to the coaches or one of the other wrestlers or the way she shyly smiles at him, when she catches him staring that one time.

Often, he wonders what brought her here.

During his years on the independent scene he has learned to not judge people’s ability or love for wrestling by their exterior. He’s had the experience, that its often the ones that don’t look the part, that perform in the most insane ways, that tell the best stories. She might not look like a hard core, bonified, world travelled wrestler, but that only serves to make him more curious. He wants to ask her, every time she walks past the ring he is training in, every time he sees her climb out off or into her car at the center’s parking lot.

But he never manages to gather the courage.

…

And because he is a little chicken shit, the one that takes the first step is her.

He is just leaning against a ring post, watching his flat mate Tucker clothesline the hell out of one of the other guys,

(He hates clotheslines. He has never been good at them. They look so easy, but when your body structure is more long and lean than bulky and powerful it always looks more like an attempt at hugging your opponent that an attempt at beheading, which is what it is supposed to look like)

when someone taps his shoulder from behind. He turns on his heels and the moment he realizes it is her, he nearly trips over himself.

_Well done Jughead. First conversation with the girl you have been staring at for weeks and you already made a fool out of yourself._

If Betty notices his embarrassing stumble, she doesn’t let on. She just gives him a radiant smile and says:

“Hi, I’m Betty.”

He blinks at her once, then twice, captivated by that smile, before he realizes he should probably answer.

“I’m Jughead.” he says and extends his hand. She takes it and he swears he has never touched a hand as soft has hers.

“Okay, listen, I’m not going to lie, I came over to steal one of your moves.” Her statement is so blunt, so right out of the gate, that is makes him laugh and feel a little more at ease.

He quirks an eyebrow at her and supports himself against the ring post with his left arm.

“Interesting. Which one?”

“Your Phoenix 630. It’s insane. Actually, I’m not going to steal it, I just really want to learn it.”

Jughead taps his chin, like he has to give her offer a good, long thought. “Hmm. That is my finishing move, you know. I don’t teach it to just anyone. What do I get out of this deal?”

“I’ll show you how to do a moonsault without landing flat on your face.”

“Rude.” Jughead mock gasps but can’t hide a smirk. She is quick-witted. He likes that. He likes it a lot. Furthermore, she is not wrong. He DOES land flat on his face every time he attempts a moonsault. “But okay, I can live with that.”

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.” she claps her hands together and winks at him when she turns around.

He can’t wait for tomorrow.

…

For the next three weeks Jughead keeps falling flat onto his face. He just can’t get the timing for the landing right. It’s frustrating beyond words, but he keeps getting up to try again. A big reason of that, he figures, is that the person offering him a hand and pulling him back up is Betty. Time and time again, she pulls him back to his feet and if it wasn’t for her, he’d called it a day and just relied on the moves he is already capable of doing. He is confident with his repertoire and after all it is part of what got him to WWE in the first place, but training with Betty, well… it makes him want to be better. Her brilliance, the fact that she perfected his Phoenix 630, a move that took him more than a month to learn, within two weeks, it all keeps him constantly motivated to improve.

_(And okay, maybe he wants to impress her just a little)_

Plus, their relationship has positively developed from training partners to friends. By the end of week one, they’d figured out that they had the same taste in movies, podcasts and books. Both of them were homebodies, stuck with roommates that liked a good night out and so on various occasions over the last three weeks, they’d saved each other from being dragged out to bars and clubs with the simple excuse of:

“Oh, sorry, I can’t. I made plans with Betty to get some cardio done.”

or “Oh no. I unfortunately can’t join you, I promised Jughead to help him a little more with his moonsault.”

Then they’d usually meet up at one of their places, watch movies, talk about everything under the sun or (like they had on one occasion) just sat next to each other, each of them engrossed in a book, until they realized it was almost two in the morning.

There had been more than one moment in which he wanted to lean forward, press his lips to hers and just see where everything would have gone from there, but he is self-conscious and prone to overthinking, so he doesn’t.

…

It’s takes three movie nights and the Japanese version of “The Ring” to finally quieten all the doubts in his head.

Jughead has seen “The Ring” a few times, even considers it one of his favorite horror movies, but also still remembers that it scared the hell out of him when he watched it the first time. He warns Betty about it, but she insists, looking at him with those big, green eyes.

“You said its one of your favorites, Juggie.”

Juggie.

He is not going to lie, that nickname makes him go all mushy inside and although he’d never say it out loud, he doesn’t hate it.

“Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Predictably, 15 minutes into the movie, Betty is already hiding behind a pillow and just occasionally peeking out.

“Betts, we can watch something else if you want to.” Jughead suggests, but she shakes her head stubbornly. She is so cute like that.

“No. I can… iek.” a particularly gruesome scene makes her fling the pillow away and burry her face right into his shoulder. He freezes and the movie fades into the background. It seems to take her a few seconds to realize what she has done, but when she does, she snaps her head up and blushes furiously.

“I’m… I’m sorry, I didn’t… I…”

Her stammering is so endearing that it takes him out of his short state of shock. He can’t take it anymore. He doesn’t want to hold back; he doesn’t want to play it safe. Without a second thought he leans forward and presses his lips to hers.

It is exactly like he imagined it and so much more. Her lips are soft and her hands in his hair feel amazing. She is kissing him back and he can’t believe his luck. He wants it to never stop. He will happily suffocate, if it means he can keep kissing her.

Jughead doesn’t know how long they kiss, doesn’t realize the movie is still playing in the background, hell he isn’t even sure what year it is, because all that matters are her lips on his, her tongue gliding against his.

Eventually (and he curses science for not having yet figured out a way to kiss someone as amazing as Betty Cooper for as long as he wants to without breathing), they break away and he can feel the smile on his face mirroring her brilliant one.

“I should have done this weeks ago.” he murmurs, and chuckle runs through her chest.

“I wanted you to.” she responds. “Didn’t I make that clear enough?”

“Nah, I’m just a coward.”

“Maybe.” Betty mumbles and lifts her hand to brush his stubborn front lock from her forehead. “But you are my coward now.”

…

Three days later, Jughead stands the moonsault. He is so surprised by himself, that he only really realizes what he just did, when Betty comes flying into his arms and everything around him is blonde hair and the smell of peach.

“Oh my god, you did it Juggie!” she cheers and still out of sheer disbelief he laughs too.

“I did.” he splutters and then after its sinks in adds. “I FUCKING DID IT, OH MY GOD.”

Its late and they are alone in the Performance Center, so when she kisses him amidst their cheers, it gets deeper way quicker than it probably should in a semi-public area. Before he knows it, they are on the ring floor and he can’t decide where to touch her first. All he knows is that his lips are on hers, that he wants it to never end and that if she does that thing with her tongue again, he will lose his goddamn mind. He doesn’t know how long they make out on the ring floor, but at some point, Betty, with an, what he considers inhuman amount of self-control, gasps:

“Juggie, we should… there are probably cameras here.”

He blinks at her for a moment, not able to makes sense of her words. When they finally make it through his thick scull, he breaths in deep, closes his eyes and lays his head against hers.

“You are right. I’m sorry, I just… I got...”

”WE got carried away.” she interrupts him. “It takes two to tango.”

That makes him laugh and he sits up again, leaning against the ring ropes. “You are still right though; we should probably not put on a show for the security guard.”

She giggles as she leans against him, her head coming to rest against his chest. He wraps his arm around her and for a while, they don’t say anything. In Jughead’s head his thoughts are spinning while he tries to remember another time in his life, he felt this content, this giddy. He knows that the fact that he draws a blank should bother him much more than it does right now, but he can’t bring himself to it. Not when Betty is right here, cuddled against him and he is just entirely baffled by the fact that fate really lead him here.

The question what brought HER here pops up in his mind again and he finally he feels like it is the right time to ask.

“Betts?” he tries.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Okay, I know this is going to sound very typical and judgy, but… what brought you here? I mean your talent obviously, but wrestling as a whole. How did you get into it?”

“You mean because I don’t look the part?”

“I didn’t… I mean I’m not trying to offend…” Jughead stammers, but she sits up to face him and brings a hand up to caress his cheek.

“Its fine Juggie. You are not the first one to ask that question, I’m not offended. It’s also a rather good story so, I don’t mind telling it.”

All Jughead can do is nod dumbly, when she lays her head into his lap and starts talking again: “When I was younger, I used to think there was this darker side of me. One that I couldn’t show to anyone, that no one in my family or the town I grew up in would have approved off. For them I was the preppy, always helpful cheerleader. The stereotypical girl next door, the one that did everything right. On the inside though, I felt like the total opposite. But I would hide it; I would deny that side existed. Over the years I’d learn that that side of me had a name. Various, actually. Anxiety. Depression. I would go to therapy, I would seek help, but nothing ever truly helped. I still hid from myself; I still hid from this darker side. And then, one day, my college roommate took me along to this local wrestling show in Boston and I was… I don’t think fascinated is enough to describe it. There where these people, that would play these characters, these versions of themselves. They would express themselves through these characters and that night, I knew I had found my outlet. My way to deal with all of it. So, the next day, I inscribed myself at the wrestling school and it went from there. I started to create this persona, that represented all the feelings I would have during my darkest moments. I called her Isabella and she… well she is like me. She looks very sweet at first, but if you push the right buttons, she will come at you and she will obliviate you. Thanks to my experiences with those dark feelings, I know how to portray her. It feels authentic. And as incredible as it may sound, its works Jug. Of course, I still see a professional once a week, but yeah, that is basically what got me into it. It’s my therapy.”

“That….” Jughead thinks for a minute, trying to gather the right words. “That is very powerful.”

A brilliant smile appears on her face and he can’t help leaning down to kiss it.

“What about you, though?” Betty asks. “I just realized I’ve never heard about your in-ring persona or about what got you here either.”

Jughead shrugs: “I don’t know, I just… sort of fell into it, I think. You know that I don’t come from the most stable background and by the time I was 16, I had a lot of anger built up inside me. I had an outlet for it with my writing but that was… it was just in my head. I felt like I needed a physical outlet for it, something… real. And well, in the world I grew up in, you had two options: you’d either get roped into a gang and “relieve” your anger in all the illegal ways you can think of, or you go and do some kind of martial arts. I tried boxing but that was… I don’t know, it just wasn’t what I was searching for. And then one day, I was at the local dinner and that group of guys came in and they were handing out these flyers for the local wrestling school. The next day I went there and told them that I wanted to try but I couldn’t afford the training. They didn’t even blink. Alex, my first coach, he just said that if I helped around the school, he’d train me for free and so I learned everything from scratch. I would help build up the ring, I would clean the whole building, I would be the referee at shows. And eventually, after a few years at the local shows, Ring of Honor took an interest in me. I met Brandon, my best friend there and we would team up as this duo of… well flat out gang bangers. We had leather jackets and we would call ourselves the Serpents and we’d just be straight out weirdos and hiss at people in an attempt to try to intimidate them. When I got signed here, it was such an emotional turmoil, because on one hand it is all I could have dreamt off, but on the other hand, I had to leave Brandon there and I had no idea how to go on with my in-ring persona. I really loved the character I had created there. The night before I left, Brandon and I talked about it and I will never forget how he just… he just gave the gimmick to me. He just relinquished it. He said that it had always fit me better than him anyway. And he was probably right. So, up until this day, I play that persona. And it has so many different angles to it. If I need to be a bad guy, I can play up all the cockiness, all the arrogance, all the weirdness. And if I need to be the good guy, I can go for the loveable underdog from the wrong part of town vibe. In the end, I’m doing what I’ve always been good at and that is telling stories. To this day, it still baffles me that I get paid to do it.”

Betty doesn’t say anything for a while, seemingly in deep thought: “That sounds… god the possibilities. Jug, imagine if we could combine all that, the stories we could tell.”

Jughead runs his fingers through her hair. “Yeah, that would be insane. I’m afraid though that for now, that will be hard, given that WWE doesn’t have a mixed tag team division.”

She just shrugs: “One day.”

“You sound so sure about that.”

Betty smiles up at him. “I’m. We’ll perform together one day; I just know it.”

…

Tucker moves out of their shared apartment a few days later and Jughead feels relieved.

He’d gotten used to doing things his way during the years he’d spent in a crappy, old apartment in Toledo, while on the independent circus and having a roommate had been more of an adjustment than what was good for his nerves.

Thankfully Tucker had made good friends with some other dude bro that Jughead had forgotten the name of and jumped at the chance to share an apartment with him. There are no hard feelings to it, but after a few months at the Performance Center, Jughead can now afford to pay the rent on his own and most importantly of all: He can finally have Betty over uninterrupted.

They really hadn’t had the chance to be truly alone in between training and their respective roommates and he doesn’t want to be that guy, but… well he has noticed certain things about Betty. The way here hips sway for example. And he would be lying if he’d said he hadn’t caught himself staring at her boobs. Hell, she had caught him starring at her boobs, but her reaction had been nothing more than a giggle and the cutest blush he had seen in his life, so he figures they are okay.

So, as soon as Tucker is out the door, he texts Betty if she is free tonight and wants to come over for dinner.

…

When he wakes up the next morning, with an arm full of Betty, her head on his chest and the feeling of his skin on hers, it’s about the 100th time in 10 hours that he can’t believe his own luck.

He doesn’t move for a while, relishing in the moment, in the warmth of the duvet, the warmth of their bodies pressed together. Eventually she stirs, an adorable yawn escaping her, before she buries her face in his neck.

“Morning” she mumbles into his skin.

“Good morning.” he responds and massages the back of her head gently. “Did you sleep okay?”

She hums contently. “Like a baby. You are a very comfortable pillow.”

“Why, thank you, I’m glad to have been of service.”

Betty tilts her head up, a brilliant smile on her face before she pecks his lips.

…

It’s about a year into their training and about 6 months into their relationship when Brandon gets singed by WWE.

He calls Jughead on a Sunday afternoon, just after he has comfortably nodded off on the couch with Betty in his arms. It had been a week and he really doesn’t want to deal with any other human being than Betty right now. With a low groan, he blindly fishes for his phone and Betty mumbles her protest into his neck.

“Who is that?”

“No idea, but I will murder them.” Jughead answers, while forcing his eyes open. He takes in the Caller ID and heaves another sigh.

“You better be bleeding.” he grumbles into the phone and Brandon’s laugh bellows out of the speaker.

“Did I wake you? You know it is 3 p.m., right?”

“It’s called a nap, mate. Google it. What do you want?”

“Well, I’m not really sure how to say it but… uhm… well I’m coming to Orlando. Permanently.”

Jughead sits up so fast that Betty nearly falls off the couch. In the last moment, he grabs her by the hip.

“Sorry.” he mouths, before he returns to Brandon on the other end of the line. “You got signed?”

Betty’s slightly annoyed face lightens up at his words and the repeat sound of Brandon’s laugh in his ear makes him feel all kinds of happy.

“Yes, I’m starting in two weeks. Can you believe that? We can bring the Serpents back if they let us. And I’ll finally get to meet Betty in person. It’s insane.”

“Oh my god, two weeks? Do you have a place to stay?”

“I was hoping I could stay at yours. Just for the first one or two weeks. I know Betty lives there too now and…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her about it and I’m sure she will be fine with it.” Jughead answers and his glance slides over to Betty again who is grinning even broader now. “Just pack your stuff and get down here, I can’t wait to see you.”

…

Along with Brandon, there is only a handful of other wrestlers that start at the Performance Center two weeks later, but one of them, a girl with vibrant green hair and more tattoos than skin, catches everyone’s attention.

Her name is Gemma and just from looking at her everyone automatically knows that she is going to be a star. She hits it off with Betty immediately. The blaring differences in their appearances are almost ridiculous, but the moment Gemma gets all up into the face of one of the other female wrestlers (a barbie like, silicon improved type that Jughead forgot the name of) for belittling mental health issues, Jughead understands their connection. Just like Betty Gemma is fierce and passionate about the things she loves, just like Betty Gemma has been through quiet a battle.

From that point on, Betty, Gemma, Brandon and him become a ride-or-die gang. They train together, they get matching sunburns after falling asleep at the beach, they share meals and long conversations into the night at each other apartments. They dream of shaking up the big shows of the likes of Raw and Smackdown together and in their heads the idea of a mixed stable forms, one that runs rampage through the shows and doesn’t respect anything or anyone.

It’s Shawn Michaels (the HBK, “Mr. Wrestlemania” Shawn Michaels), that overhears them talk about it at the Performance Center one day.

Jughead nearly falls off the turnbuckle he is sitting on while watching Betty and Gemma practicing a double moonsault and talking to Brandon when he hears Shawn’s voice right next him.

“That sounds like a great idea kid, you guys got details on that figured out?”

And just like that the four of them spend the next three hours laying out their plans to one of the biggest legends of the business.

…

About a month later, they get called in for their first performance on NXT and Jughead is a nervous, sweating mess.

He is standing backstage in his new gear, rerunning the details in his head for what feels like the 1000th time this day. Betty is sitting next to him, repositioning atop of one of the many large equipment boxes, every two minutes. He has no idea where Gemma and Brandon have gone off to, only that they’d both mumbled something about fresh air.

He can’t remember ever being this nervous.

In his head the details of their appearance are running a mile an hour. They’ll enter through the crowd, faces covered, wearing leather jackets and combat boots. They’ll jump the barricade and encircle the guys and girls in the ring by getting onto the ring apron on all four sides of the ring. And then, after he gives the sign, they’ll attack. Ruthless, brutal and fast. Without any real sign as to why. Just like a snake would.

He’ll be the mouthpiece, Brandon will be the muscle, Gemma will be the freak and Betty will be the brain. It’s all laid out in minute detail, but nonetheless his knees are feeling like they are about to give in any second.

“Hey.” Betty’s soft voice and the touch of her hand on his pull him from his thoughts. “You okay?”

He sighs. “I’m internally dying.”

She laughs a little at that and then gestures for him to stand between her legs so she can wrap her arms around his neck. His hands fall to her hips automatically and he instantly feels calmer.

“Me too.” she admits, looking directly at him. “I think it would be weird if it were any different. But Juggie, we are here. We made it.”

“We made it.” he repeats. It’s been like a mantra for them during the last seven days leading up to this.

“And I know, it’s the biggest opportunity any of us has ever gotten and just the thought that there is a significant chance that all of this goes down the drain makes me wanna go and run, but even if it does, Juggie we are in this together now. No matter what happens, if this is a success or not, we’ll have each other, and we’ll find a way.”

He knows she says it as much for him as for herself, but she is right. He’s got her. And even though they have been together for only a little over a year, there is no doubt in his mind that that is the most important thing.

So instead of answering, he leans down to kiss her and hopes to convey all his affection, all his love and the fact that he is all in and for the long haul at that, into the kiss. They are both panting a little when they pull back and he presses his forehead to hers:

“I love you.” he murmures.

“I love you too.”

It not the first time they’ve said it, but it feels as significant as the first time. They stay like that until they hear Brandon’s and Gemma’s steps echo down the hallway along with Brandon’s voice booming towards them: “You ready to give them hell?”

Jughead looks over at Betty and she smirks.

“So, fucking ready.”


End file.
